The Adventures of Anon Quixote

Story Theme- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H2rd8rRQqe0

>You are Anon Quixote
>You're riding through emerald plains a good distance outside of Ponyville upon your noble steed, Rocinante
>Garbed in your ancestor Sir Anoncelot's armor, passed down generation to generation, and gripping a sword in your hand that shimmers in the light of the afternoon sun, you are truly chivalry incarnate
>As you reach the pinnacle of a hill, you tug on the reins you hold in your left hand, bringing Rocinante's galloping to a stop
>You gaze at Ponyville and all that surrounds it, searching for whatever cruel being may seek to reap peril
>Fortunately, all seems to be well as the Ponies go about their lives heartily, without a care in the world
>No beasts are seeking to commit sinister actions
>For now, at least
>One never knows when The Enchanter may strike out at all that is good in the world
“No sign of any fell beings today. Perhaps they fear my might, and rightfully so! The moment I spot one, he shall be smote!”
>You flourish your blade in the air, holding your lightly-bearded chin high
>Rocinante lets out a sigh
>“Anon, could we...go home for the day? It's just that...you're very heavy, and my back is getting-”
>You cut her off by lightly slamming your thigh into her side
“We shall do no such thing, Rocinante! Evil never rests, why should we?”
>“But...monsters haven't attacked Ponyville in months, Anon.”
>You let out a scoff
“Subject to change. They are clearly waiting to strike once they have formulated a proper strategy. I have seen this all before, and soon, you will have seen it too, Rocinante.”
>“My name isn't 'Rocinante,' it's Flutter-”
>You cut her off once more with another nudge of the thigh
“Silence, Rocinante! I need to maintain my focus, in case that dastardly Enchanter attempts to get the drop on me. If I am slain, then Equestria shall have no defense against evil!”
>Just before Rocinante can say anything more, you take her reins, pull them to the left, and slam both of your thighs into her sides, directing her to set out again
>She resumes her trotting along, and you continue watching the land around you with eyes like an eagle and ears of an elephant, paying attention to every gust of the wind, shifting of the bushes, and falling leaf
>Once, you swear you notice a cloaked figure moving through the green, only to lose sight of it moments later
>Perhaps it was nothing, but perhaps it was something
>If the Enchanter was powerful enough to whisk you away to this world of Ponies, then he could very well be capable of an Invisibility Spell, in which case nowhere could be safe
>You must be always on your guard, lest the worst should happen
>Suddenly, something falls into your sight that widens your eyes and pales your cheeks
>There, at the border between the Everfree Forest and the plains, rests a great Dragon
>Fortunately, it appears to be a mere adolescent
>You point your sword in its direction, straightening your jaw and furrowing your brow
“Gaze upon it, Rocinante! It is exactly as I said, The Enchanter's sinister forces are near, and ready to advance!”
>Rocinante stares over her shoulder at you, a brow slightly raised
>“Anon...That's a windmill. But...I guess it sort of looks like a Dragon if you squint.”
“Never to fear! I shall slay this beast, and whatever fell beasts may accompany it! He shall never awaken again!”
>You promptly dismount Rocinante and tie her to a tree stump
>You wouldn't want to lose another steed, after the last two ran away when your back was turned
>Even if Rocinante is a bit on the meek side, at least she listens, and it's not as if steeds grow on trees
>You pull your shield off of your back and ready it as you begin a slow approach towards the slumbering beast ahead of you
>You occasionally glances at the ground just ahead of you, to make sure that you don't step on anything that may alert the Dragon
>Finally, you stand mere inches away from its great, fat head, its nostrils steadily exhaling and inhaling in its slumber
>Such a creature was unwise to let its guard down so close to Ponyville
>You follow the monster's head until you reach its large, scaly neck
>Thankfully, the Dragon is sleeping on its side, so the fleshy underside of the neck is facing you, leaving it vulnerable
>You place your shield back on your back, not taking your eyes off the beast in front of you, being careful to make nary a noise
>Both hands now on the grip of your sword, you inch closer to the Dragon's neck, closer to a swift victory
>Now directly next to the weakest point of your foe, you take a deep breath, to calm yourself
>You have to be precise, or else you'll have to deal with a completely awake monstrosity
>After several moments, you finally plunge your blade into what you believe to be the jugular vein, until all that you can still see of your sword is the grip
>Withdrawing your sword, crimson blood begins to pour from the wound
>To be certain that you've done the job right, you stab the neck twice, more blood continuing to pour with each strike
>Now assured that the beast is dead, you sheathe your sword and stroll back to Rocinante, your chin held high and a grin stretched across your face
>As you untie Rocinante, she gives you a worried glance
>“You...just stabbed a windmill, Anon. Are you feeling okay? N-Not that I think that you're...you know...insane, or anything.”
>You give your steed a laugh and a sure smile as you clamber onto her saddle
“If that was a windmill, then it was a most sinister, scaly windmill.”
>Rocinante opens her mouth to say something, then promptly closes it
>You gaze at the fallen Dragon, and point a gloved finger at it
“Let this beast's death be a lesson to all who dare threaten the land of Anon Quixote, Man of Equestria!”
>Rocinante stares at the dead Dragon intently
>“Anon, you're beginning to worry me...”
“All that you need to worry about is the stench that the creature's foul remains shall leave behind. Now, let us be off! Who knows what else threatens to lash out at Ponyville? Onward, to glory!”
>You point in the direction from where you came, and Rocinante reluctantly starts trotting back onto the established patrol route, where oranges and purples paint the evening sky

>You are Anon Quixote
>Yesterday, you slew a slumbering Dragon that threatened to awaken and sear Ponyville at any moment
>Nobody was harmed in the end, other than the Dragon, but who knows what could have happened if you had not noticed the beast
>Now, you sit upon a barrel in an alleyway, with your noble steed taking a nap on the ground beside you
>You're deep in thought, wondering what the land of Equestria would do without you
>In all likelihood, it would collapse under The Enchanter's might, and fall into chaos
>Fortunately, you are well-trained in the art of the sword, so all will be well as long as blood flows through your veins
>A new thought suddenly pops into your head and your eyes widen
>You turn your gaze to Rocinante, noticing that she's sleeping but hardly caring
“Rocinante, I've just had an epiphany!”
>Her eyes flutter open drowsily as she raises her head to look at you
>She gives a light yawn, almost like a squeak
>“That's nice, Anon...What about?”
>You swivel your entire body around to face her fully
>Placing your hands on your knees, you lean in close to her
“It brings me great pain to admit this, but someday, I will perish. And, in that hour, the world will no longer have Anon Quixote, Man of Equestria, to defend it from evil.”
>Rocinante rubs her eyes with her front hooves, waking herself up further, and raises a brow
>“I...think my friends and I do a decent job of protec-”
“Which is why I need someone to replace me and continue my life's work! I need a squire, someone to educate in the ways of chivalry!”
>Your yellow steed gives you a skeptical look
>“That sounds...nice, but who are you going to convince to join you? You aren't exactly popular...Not that I d-dislike you or anything like that.”
>You consider her words for a moment, lightly tugging on your chin hairs
“Heroes such as I are rarely appreciated, Rocinante. But, for once, you may be right. Finding a squire will be no simple task.”
>You retreat into your mind and stare at a pebble on the ground as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, thinking through any potential candidates for a squire
>Most of Ponyville's residents are too delicate to make good knights, and even fewer are probably willing to become become your squire
>You don't blame them; a life of chivalry isn't the life for everyone, but it is certainly a noble lifestyle
>Even so, you will need to find a squire one way or another
>Finally, you rise to your feet after getting an idea
>Your eyes meet Rocinante's
“Rocinante, I know exactly where I can find a squire! Where is the local brothel?”
>Rocinante stares up at you with a face that screams “You aren't well”
>“We...don't have a brothel, Anon. But Sugarcube Corner is the next block over?”
>You let out a disappointed sigh
“Shame. My master taught me that the greatest of squires are found in brothels.”
>“...He found you in a brothel?”
>You let out a proud laugh
“That's a story for another time, Rocinante. Now, come along, steed! I'm of a mind to find a squire before day's end!”
>As you begin strutting down the alleyway, Rocinante rises to join you at your side
>“What's a 'steed,' Anon? You keep calling me that, but I've never heard of it.”
“Something that doesn't ask its master questions.”
>------------
>A stroll and several brief speeches about chivalry later, you stand just outside Sugarcube Corner with your noble steed
“Now, Rocinante, would be the part where I instruct my squire to step forward and announce my presence. But seeing as how I'm lacking in the squire department, you shall have to fill the role.”
>Rocinante's eyes widen and her cheeks turn crimson
>“You...mean I'm going to have to go stand in front of everypony and...shout?”
“Yes, precisely! They deserve to know that the great Anon Quixote, Man of Equestria is among them, how else are they to know?”
>“Well...you do stand out from the crowd pretty well, Anon. You don't exactly look like an ordinary pony. B-But you aren't ugly or anything...I think you look a bit dashing.”
>In response to Rocinante's compliment, you give her an affectionate pat on her head
“Thank you, Rocinante. I'm aware that my looks can be rather overwhelming if one isn't used to seeing a proper knight in all of his glory. But tradition must be upheld! Now, go announce my presence!”
>With your gloved hand, you push her rear end, sliding her forward by a few inches
>Rocinante glances back at you worriedly, her lip quivering
>Getting fed up, you point at the door aggressively
>Her head held low and treading softly, Rocinante enters the building and, after a few moments of glancing around, raises her head
>“A-Anon Quixote, Man of E-Equestria!”
>She made your name sound rather undignified with her stammer, but it's better than nothing
>You'll be far better off when you have a squire for this sort of thing
>You take off your helmet and tuck it under your arm before striding in through the door
>You walk to Rocinante's side, and glance around the room
>Every pair of eyes has its gaze firmly locked upon yourself and your steed
>Most are looking at you as if you were, God forbid, insane, and others just seem unsure of what to think
>They do not respect you now, but they will, in time, recognize your chivalry
>You place your helmet upon the head of Rocinante
>She squeaks in surprise, but doesn't protest
>You point at the ground, signaling her to stay put, and carry on through to the counter of the room
>All the while, your eyes dart around the room, scouting out any potential candidates for a squire
>Unfortunately, each and every one of them seems to be either too meek or too ordinary to make a fine squire
>With a sigh, you plop yourself onto a stool beside a mint-colored mare
>You demand a glass of milk from the pony tending the bar and ponder on the situation you've caught yourself in
>Every pony you've seen in Ponyville just seems lacking in squire material
>With luck, the rest of Equestria will not have such a lack of chivalry
>You dread the day that you will have to face the sinister Enchanter all by yourself
>If the Enchanter bests you, then Equestria will fall into a state of peril, and there will be no hope of ever saving it
>You will need a squire to carry on your legacy, and vanquish the Enchanter should you perish
>And what if the Enchanter is already planning his attack?
>He could strike at any moment, ready to enslave all of the land with his sorcery
>You'll have to take a squire under your wing and train him or her to knighthood immediately
>Your train of thought is broken as the mare beside you lightly nudges your forearm
>You turn to look at her, and see her yellow eyes staring back at you
>Her eyes are almost golden; they remind you of the Golden Helmet of Mambrino of legend
“Yes, citizen?”
>She seems a bit put-off by your use of “citizen,” but apparently not by much, as she still says what she wanted to say
>“So, you're that 'Anon Quixote' guy, huh?”
“Yes, that's me. You speak as if you've heard of me before?”
>“Well, I think everypony in Sugarcube Corner has heard of you, after you got Fluttershy to shout your name.”
>She glances at Rocinante, who still sits by the door, awaiting you
>You aren't sure why she called Rocinante “Fluttershy”
>Hardly a name worthy of a steed; “Rocinante” is far more noble and steed-ly
>“Why'd you have her do that, anyways?”
“Because I am a knight, and I must follow tradition. I must be announced when I enter a building.”
>She gets a bit visibly excited when you mention that you are a knight
>“You're a knight? A real, actual, legitimate knight? That's pretty cool!”
>You turn a bit red as you give her a smile
>You aren't quite used to flattery
“Well, yes. I am, indeed a knight, trained by Sir Gawanon. Knighthood is in my blood, actually. It all started with one of my ancestors, Sir Anoncelot. Ah, he was a great knight. Many songs have been sung about his noble quests...”
>Your voice trails off as you recall the tales of Sir Anoncelot you read as a boy
>A grin sprawls itself across your mint-colored friend's face
>“Have you gone on any great adventures and fought many monsters, like in all of those stories?”
“Certainly! Just yesterday, in fact, I slew a Dragon in the plains beyond Ponyville!”
>She scoots herself a bit closer to you
>“Well, go on!”
>She makes a gesture with her hoof, telling you to carry on
>You are happy to oblige
>You spin a yarn about how you had come to encounter the Dragon, and tell her of how the Enchanter's minions seemed to have been watching you every step of the way, waving your hands to illustrate the story
>Of course, you take a few liberties to spice everything up
>She is absolutely enthralled, with her grin getting wider by the moment
>As your tale comes to an end, you finally describe yourself riding off into the sunset on Rocinante
>“That beats just about every story I ever read as a filly! I've always looked up to knights and such, you know. Anypony willing to go out and defend the land is a pony worth respecting. I never really wanted to join the military, though. That all seems too strict for my taste.”
>Suddenly, an idea hits you
>Your voice assumes a form of seriousness
“Yes, my life is certainly exciting. But, it is a life that most knights don't lead by themselves. At some point, a knight usually takes on a squire to educate in the ways of chivalry, to add another knight to the land.”
>Her eyes light up and her ears perk, clearly you've caught her attention
“Now, I have been seeking a squire myself, as I find that Equestria could be toppled any day now. I believe that you are a prime candidate, Madame?”
>“Lyra. Lyra Heartstrings.”
“Madame Lyra! Would you join me as my squire? I warn you, the life of a knight is perilous. I can nary go a day without finding my life in mortal danger. And, soon, you too will be in constant danger if you choose to accompany me.”
>“Do you really think I'm fit for the whole 'squire' thing? I'm not exactly a brave, strong adventurer, you know.”
“No, but you can be, with my training and discipline. My master taught me that a knight can come from even the most unexpected places.”
>“Well...”
>Her voice trails off as she carefully considers your offer
>“It couldn't hurt to give it a shot, could it?”
>She seems a little reluctant, but you're certain that she will make a fine knight in time
“Then you are, starting today, 'Squire Lyra,' my knight-in-training! Now, come! We have much to attend to.”
>You promptly stand up and walk over to the door, your new squire following suit, where Rocinante awaits
>The three of you carry on onto the road outside Sugarcube Corner, where you stop to mount Rocinante
>As you do, however, Lyra gives you a flabbergasted look
>“Why are you...riding on top of Fluttershy, Anon?”
“How else am I to ride my noble steed?”
>She is still just as unsure about the whole thing, though you aren't sure why
“I hope you aren't afraid of horseback riding, because you will be in need of a steed as well.”
>“Anon, I'm a pony. I don't need a 'steed,' whatever that is.”
“Why? How are you to pursue a fleeing enemy than by using a steed?”
>“By running. The way everypony else chases other ponies down.”
“I tried that once, before I got my hands on Rocinante here. I ran after a vicious Snipe, huge, terrifying beast, with nothing but a dagger and a shield to my name in the dead of night. The next morning, I woke up half-naked in the middle of a field with a sack of potatoes on my back. That's your first lesson, squire, always keep a steed handy.”
>Lyra gives you a searching gaze, apparently hoping to discern whether you're serious or not
>Your face remains stone cold
>“...Sure, master. Always keep a steed handy.”
>You give her a smile as you give Rocinante a nudge, directing her to move onwards, down the road, with Lyra trotting alongside you

>You are Anon Quixote
>You're riding on your steed through the streets of Ponyville
>Your new squire, Lyra, trots alongside you, listening as you tell a grand tale of chivalry
“And that, my squire, is how I rescued a library and passed my first kidney stone, all at once!”
>You let out an airy sigh, feeling rather nostalgic about the whole story
>Your squire doesn't seem to share your wonder
>“But...that doesn't make any sense, Anon.”
>She gives you a skeptical gaze
>You respond with a rather hurt look
“How so? You think I would tell you a lie?”
>“Well, I guess not, but how did you manage to kill the ogre that was attacking the library WHILE passing a kidney stone AND balancing the Scroll of Cervantes on your big toe? And what even happened to the Scroll of Cervantes, anyways?”
>You let out a scoff and give your squire a smirk
“Trivial, really. I merely channeled the spirits of my knight predecessors to allow myself to reach my peak. You'll be able to do the same, some day. As for the scroll, I memorized it and burned it to the ground. I cannot allow such chivalrous secrets to fall into The Enchanter's grip.”
>You clench your fist to accentuate that last part
>Lyra simply gives you flabbergasted look
>“None of that makes any sense either, Anon! You can't 'channel your predecessors' spirits,' that's impossible!”
“'Impossible,' is a word used only by fools and pessimists. The last person to tell me that something was impossible was Edward the Gray.”
>Lyra becomes a bit curious, though remains rather wary
>“Who's 'Edward the Gray?' One of The Enchanter's generals?”
“No, a person I met at the brothel I grew up in. He told me that it was impossible to have sexual intercourse with a rock.”
>You laugh proudly
“He never again uttered the word 'Impossible' in my presence.”
>“...You fucked a rock?”
“It matters not. The point is, nothing is impossible, my squire. Always remember that.”
>Lyra gives a sigh that bears a hint of frustration, yet still follows up with a nod
>She does not yet recognize the mysterious ways of the knight, but soon she will learn that chivalry's power is infinite
>After all, a sword cannot be forged without many hours of labor
>Suddenly, something, or rather, someone that causes your heart to skip a beat comes into view
>There, on the crossroads ahead, is The Enchanter himself, strolling along without a care in the world, a small dragon following closely behind
>Or, shall you say, herself?
>He seems to have taken on the form of a lavender mare, but you can still sense his sinister presence, even through his enchanted appearance
>You pull on Rocinante's reins, bringing her to a halt, and gesture for Lyra to do the same
>She gives you a confused look
“My squire, do you see that mare, whose fur is like the purples of the evening?”
>Lyra turns her gaze from you to The Enchanter
>As she lays her eyes upon evil incarnate, her expression just becomes more confused
>“Yeah, that's Twilight Sparkle. She's an accomplished sorcerer, and she's helped save the world a couple times. What about her?”
>Your eyes narrow
“That mare, my squire, is no 'Twilight Sparkle!' No matter what she says, she is, and always has been, The Enchanter! He may have given himself the guise of both a different species and a different gender, but he cannot fool me!”
>Everything makes sense now
>The Enchanter has wrapped his fist around Equestria not by force, but by tricking them into believing that he is a savior, rather than a conqueror
>The Enchanter's deception sickens you
>“So, Twilight is actually that Enchanter guy you keep telling me about? I don't know, Twilight's always been pretty nice, for the most part. Why would she want to conquer Equestria after saving it multiple times?”
“Would you let someone else conquer the land that you have your eyes set on, thus foiling your plan? No, he is merely fattening you all up, like lambs for slaughter. And, when nothing more stands in his way, he will seize control of the land!”
>You shake your head in disappointment at yourself for not seeing The Enchanter's plan sooner
>This could all have been prevented had you noticed your archenemy lying right under your nose sooner
>Promptly, you straighten your jaw and furrow your brow
>Now is not the time to wallow in self-pity
“Fortunately for Equestria, Anon Quixote, Man of Equestria and Squire Lyra are here! So long as we breathe, there is yet hope for peace.”
>Lyra is still looking rather unsure, but you seem to have swayed her enough
>Suddenly, you hear a voice coming from below you
>You look down to see Rocinante staring at you over her shoulder
>“A-Anon, if I may comment, I know Twilight personally. She would never-”
>You cut her off by nudging her side with your thigh
>She gives a whimper, and says no more
>You cannot trust Rocinante's word anymore
>In all likelihood, The Enchanter placed a spell of loyalty upon her
>This fact is a great misfortune, but it will all be dispelled when you finally smite The Enchanter
>Probably
>Lyra looks from The Enchanter, then back to you with an inquisitive look
>“So, what? Are we going to attack her? Or...him?”
>She puts a hoof to her forehead, trying to wrap her head around The Enchanter's gender trickery, no doubt
>“Oh, Whatever! Are we going to attack IT?”
>You give The Enchanter, now leaving your line of sight, a long, hard gaze
>As The Enchanter vanishes from your sight, going down a separate path, you turn back to your squire
“As much as I hate to leave The Enchanter at peace, we would most certainly be crushed. It has been all too long since I last faced him in my own world. And, even then, he was a match for me. There's no telling how powerful he could be now. I will cross swords with him another day.”
>You let out a sorrowful sigh
>Your archnemesis could strike at absolutely any moment, and you would be powerless to stop him
>Suddenly, your last few spoken words bring a bulb to life in your mind
“Lyra, how is your skill with a sword?”
>“I've never touched a sword in my life, Anon. But I can chop carrots with a knife pretty well, if that counts for anything?”
>You smirk at your squire
“Tut, tut. A knife is the weapon of a coward! If one must attack from the darkness, without your foe knowing, then that just shows how little chivalry you possess. Nay, you must become a master swordsmare, like each and every knight before you!”
>Her face lights up at the opportunity to further her path to knighthood, but her optimism swiftly passes away as something worries her
>“That's really exciting and all, but...How are you going to teach me? You only have one sword, Anon.”
“That's easy, my young squire! Where is the closest mart?”
>Lyra extends a hoof at a building a good distance down the road
>“Over there, but I'm not sure what you expect to fi-”
“Then let us be off, to acquire your first blade!”
>You flick Rocinante's reins, and she begins a light gallop down the road, though Lyra remains in place
>“Anon! We could just use STICKS, you know!”
>You turn your head back at her
“A stick is hardly a replacement for a fine blade, my squire!”
>You can hear Lyra groan in frustration, yet you still find her trotting alongside you moments later
>--------------
>A few minutes later, in a completely ordinary store in Ponyville, Lyra rushes in through the doors
>Everypony in the building instantly turns to face her
>Holding her head low, she briefly mutters to herself
>“Sweet Celestia, I can't believe I'm doing this...”
>She rears back her head and raises her voice for all the store to hear
>“Anon Quixote, Man of Equestria!”
>Promptly, you strut into the building, stepping past her and up to the counter, where a pony gives you a flabbergasted look
“I demand your finest selection of blades, citizen!”
>You seem to have overwhelmed him with your entrance, as he takes a moment to respond
>“We don't carry blades, Mister Quixote. But we do have a fifty percent off on our entire selection of fruit, if you're interested?”
>You look over at the fruit selection
>God damn, those are some juicy-looking apples
>You remember the Tale of Sir Anoncelot's Apple of Power, said to give great power to anyone whom ate from it
>You recall that Anoncelot hid it away long ago, to keep it from falling into the wrong hands
>Those are all probably perfectly normal apples
>But you aren't willing to take that chance
>You look down at Lyra
“How are our funds doing, squire?”
>She gives you a shrug
>“Pretty well, last I checked.”
>Her eyes turn to the fruit section before jumping back to you
>“Don't tell me you're going to-!”
“We shall have all of your apples, good sir!”
>Lyra stomps her hoof upon your boot in anger, but it hardly phases you
>You reach back to your top-secret pocket, kept in the underside of your cape, and pull out your wallet
“How much will that be?”
>-----------------
>Soon, you find yourself and your squire walking along the dirt roads of Ponyville once more
>This time, however, you are not mounted upon Rocinante
>Instead, she struggles to balance a large basket of apples on her back, gasping in fright each time the basket nearly topples
>Lyra is still infuriated with you
>“Anon, you spent your ENTIRE wallet on some apples! Do you know what we could have spent all of that on? Anything other than apples!”
>God, you hope you weren't this much of a whiner when you were a squire
“One day, my squire, you will learn that you must pay any price to achieve an ultimate goal.”
>“And what was the 'ultimate goal' today?”
“The potential to find Sir Anoncelot's fabled Apple of Power.”
>She gives you a long, open-mouthed stare
>“...I'm just going to shut up now.”
“For the best, my squire, for the best.”

>You are Anon Quixote
>Your squire, Lyra, trailing a short ways behind you, you're venturing through the Everfree Forest, going about your weekly patrol of the forest
>Your squire steps up to your side, and opens her mouth to speak
>“Anon, just how long is this patrol route? We've been at it since this morning, we should have been done by now, shouldn't we?”
“Oh, just how long it takes depends.”
>Your squire's voice becomes skeptical
>“Depends on what?”
“Depends on how long it takes me to reach the edge of the forest again. I've always just wandered around randomly. I just call it a 'patrol route' because that makes it sound more official.”
>“In WHAT way is that efficient? If you're operating like that, you could be here for hours! What's the longest time you've been in here?”
>In between cutting down branches in your path, you stop to ponder
“Oh, Four days. Might have been longer. That was a year ago, and I don't remember much of it. But, since then, I now know my way around just fine.”
>“Then that should be a good hint that you need to use an actual planned route, right?”
“Not in the slightest, my squire! My master taught me that to go about your business without a plan is to be unpredictable, and that means that The Enchanter or any other servants of sin cannot figure me out!”
>“I'm not sure anypony can figure you out, Anon.”
“My point exactly!”
>You whirl around to face your squire, pointing a finger at her
>You miscalculate how far away from you she was, and your finger winds up on the tip of her muzzle
>You disregard the miscalculation and leave your finger there
“If no one can figure me out, then I have the element of surprise! Remember that, squire.”
>Lyra withdraws from your finger, and gives you a long, considering gaze
>Finally, she nods reluctantly
>“Well...that makes sense, actually. For once, I might actually have to remember one of your 'lessons.'”
>You give your squire a proud smile before resuming your steady trek through the woods
>Three days into her training and she's finally starting to realize that what you speak is the truth
>Apart from that time you told her that you actually won a national jousting competition back on Earth
>That was complete bullshit
>But most of what you speak is definitely the truth
>“Wait, Anon, you manage to pull, like, three chivalry lessons out of your rear every day. Should I be writing these down? Is there going to be some sort of written 'Test of Chivalry' eventually?”
“Absolutely! How can one in good conscience call themselves a knight if they have not passed the great Written Test of Chivalry?”
>Lyra rushes to your side and, as her face comes into view, you can see just how pale it has become
>“You mean I should have paid attention to all of that?!”
>You stop walking to place your hands on your hips and frown
“Of course! What a knight says, he means! That you would simply allow my words to go in one ear and out the other! I am deeply disappointed in you, squire.”
>“Can you lead me back to Ponyville? I need to go buy a notebook, how else am I supposed to remember all of your shit?”
>You walk ahead of Lyra and motion for her to follow, which she does with great haste
>A mere several minutes of trotting along later, you find yourself back at the forest edge, where you'd left Rocinante tied to a tree, Ponyville looming not too far away
>You grab your wallet from within your cape-pocket, and take out a few bits, which Lyra takes hold of with her magic
“That should be sufficient money to pay for a notebook and quill, shouldn't it?”
>“Well, it's not exactly enough to afford a particularly large notebook, but it'll work. Maybe we wouldn't be knee-deep in financial trouble if you hadn't, I don't know, spent your WALLET on APPLES?”
“You tempt me, squire. I could take that money back just as easily as I gave it.”
>Lyra gives you a look of contempt, then turns to trot off to Ponyville, the bits you'd given her floating alongside her
>Once you're sure she can't see you anymore, a smirks forms upon your face
>She actually believed that there would be a “Written Test of Chivalry”
>You remember your fellow squire friends telling you about the same test back when you were still a young, hopeful squire
>At least your squire will have something to write about in her notebook when she realizes the truth-don't believe everything everyone tells you
>------------
>When Lyra returns to you around a half an hour later, you notice that she is not merely levitating a new notebook and quill, but something more
>She's carrying...candy?
>She's levitating little, colorful pieces of candy out of a bag and eating them, one by one
>Your brow furrows as she eventually reaches you, munching on one of her little peasant snacks
>She seems to notice your look, as she raises a brow of her own in confusion
>“What? I got hungry, and had enough change to buy a snack.”
>You seize the little bag of candy from her magical grip
“This mere 'snack' is not the food of a knight! Knights maintain a balanced diet, we do not dare allow ourselves to embrace such sinister snackery!”
>Lyra simply stares at you in shock and disbelief
>“Since when is candy sinister?”
“It matters not! All that matters is that Sir Gawanon once told me a woeful, cautionary tale of Sir Galahanon, who-”
>Before you can finish, you notice a short phrase on the little bag of candies
>Just how mysterious and cryptic it is in nature astounds you
>Most untrained eyes would not think of it for more than a moment, but fortunately, your eyes are like an eagle's
>Your attention falls solely upon the phrase, and you read it aloud
“...Taste the Rainbow?”
>You tug on your chin hairs lightly, pondering on what this message may feasibly mean
>You look to your squire, pointing at the words
“You know more of the sinister ways of candy greater than I, what does this mean?”
>“That? It means they want you to buy more of their product.”
“Then these were created with ill intent! Is there a brainwashing spell upon it?”
>Your eyes narrow
>If the candies have a brainwashing spell attached, then you may no longer be able to trust your squire
>You know, deep down, that you must sever her head if you can ascertain that she is under the control of evil
>“No, Anon! It's a slogan. You know, like advertising?”
>Oh
>You suppose there won't be any head-rolling, then
>Maybe someday
>But not today
“Ah, Thank you, squire, that makes sense. But something still plagues my mind.”
>Your voice trails off as you continue to go over whether the words may have some hidden meaning to them
“Why 'Taste the Rainbow?' Such a phrase is so strange, unless...”
>“Unless what? And please, explain without reciting a novel you once read word-for-word.”
“On several occasions, I have seen a mare with a mane like the rainbow, what do you know of her?”
>It hardly takes her a moment to respond
>“That's Rainbow Dash. I don't know her personally, but I know she's good friends with Twilight Sparkle, AKA The Enchanter, according to you. What does she have to do with-Wait, don't you DARE suggest that we-!”
“We must devour this Rainbow Dash! This is what those wise ponies who wrote 'Taste the Rainbow' truly meant!”
>Lyra puts a hoof to your chestplate
>It had no force behind it, but you can still see her intent on her face
>“We are NOT eating another pony, Anon! How did you even REACH that conclusion?”
“Simple! I know that all phrases, no matter how strange, have some truth to them! Therefore, this one must have as well.”
>“Really? How about 'Don't make a mountain out of a molehill?' Where's the truth in that?”
“Once upon a time, the great wizard Merlanon attempted to make a castle for himself. He decided to transform a molehill into a mountain, out of which he would carve his new castle. The spell he used to transform the molehill backfired, and what we of Earth know as 'The Grand Canyon' was the result. 'Tis first grade Chivalry Studies, my squire.”
>She gives you a blank stare for a moment
“Okay, maybe all phrases DO have truth to them. Have to give you that.”
“Ah, But my deduction is far from complete! You see, I also observed that this mare is capable of flying at a rate far faster than any other of her kind! Truly, a modern marvel! Clearly, she is blessed with some never-before-seen “Power of the Rainbow,” and whomever wrote that phrase predicted it! Now we know that the phrase has credibility, we know that we must eat the mare of rainbows!”
>You puff out your chest, rather proud of your wise deduction
>Lyra, reluctantly, gives you a nod
>“I...want to argue that, but I can't. It's so crazy, that it might just be true. Maybe. I'm going to remain skeptical.”
“And I'm sure your skepticism will truly reward you once I have the power of speed after eating this 'Rainbow Dash's' remains, and you are still a perfectly ordinary squire.”
>“What, do you expect me to take the prospect of cannibalism easily?”
“I was forced to eat two of my fellow squires when we were lost in the mountains years ago, and I turned out fine, didn't I?”
>Lyra looks you up and down, before finally giving you a slight smile
>“Fine enough, I suppose.”
>You give her a light pat on the head in appreciation of her compliment-or, what resembled a compliment-, before rushing over to untie and mount Rocinante
>Riding her to your squire's side, you look over Ponyville, where you now know that destiny and the ability to attain greater chivalry awaits you
>You unsheathe your sword and raise it into the air, its iron glistening in the afternoon rays of sun
“Then let us be off, to feast upon the rainbow mare and let our names be known throughout knightly history!”
>You flick Rocinante's reins, and she takes off, trotting down the hill at a reasonably fast pace, with Lyra galloping right alongside you, to glory

>You are Anon Quixote
>You're hiding behind a building in Ponyville, diligently watching as a mare with a mane like the rainbow goes about her business
>According to a candy wrapper, to feast upon her flesh is to bring great power and glory to yourself
>You've been spying on her day-to-day activities for the past two weeks, to find the proper time to smite this vessel of power without any bystanders knowing
>Unfortunately, her behavior has been erratic, with little to no consistency
>It's just a matter of waiting for her to wander into a dark alleyway, at this point
>As you gaze at her from the building behind which you hide, you notice her face light up
>She steps out of your sight to trot towards something hastily
>You move out from behind your cover just enough to see what has excited her
>Your face goes pale, then a look of pure loathing engulfs your face
>You can see Rainbow Dash conversing happily with none other than the malicious master of sorcery himself, The Enchanter
>He may be under the guise of an innocent-looking pony by the name of “Twilight Sparkle,” but his trickery cannot fool you, nor has it ever
>So it seems that the mare of rainbows is either one of The Enchanter's lieutenants, footsoldiers, or merely a civilian under the effects of his mind control
>No matter which one is the truth, your inevitable killing of Rainbow Dash will be greatly justified, whether you are defeating a servant of sin or putting a victim of foul magic out of her misery
>You cut your eyes to your squire, Lyra, who hides behind another building on the other side of the road
>She looks from you to The Enchanter, looking somewhat confused
>She gives an inquisitive gaze as she gestures at the spear she's levitating
>Your eyes widen just slightly as you shake your head violently
>If she were to attack, then the entire operation would be cast into ruin
>You gesture for her to remain still and silent
>You do your best to listen in on The Enchanter's conversation with Rainbow Dash, stepping out from your hiding place just slightly
>They seem to be speaking of rather innocent things, like some sort of apparent book called “Daring Do”
>It's all a meticulously-planned camouflage, no doubt
>Perhaps they are speaking in some sort of strange code, all devised in their secret base?
>Nay, they are far more likely to be using a spell to mask what they really say
>You wish you had a method of removing such spells, but you don't have any immediate access to any sort of holy book
>Finally, the two vile serpents go their separate ways, giving each other a smile and a wave of the hoof
>Their facade is cheerful, but convincing
>Were you not a man with trained senses, you would probably be fooled as well
>The Enchanter trots off, doubtless scheming vicious misdeeds silently, and Rainbow Dash takes to the skies, leaving a streak of color in her wake
>You can't help but admire her speed, despite the dark truth that she is in leagues with The Enchanter
>It will be a great justice to pass the power of speed onto someone as virtuous as yourself
>With such great speed, you could easily vanquish The Enchanter without breaking a sweat
>And it might also help make your patrols a hell of a lot faster
>Once the coast is clear, yourself and your squire step forth from your hiding places and meet in the middle of the dirt street
>You sigh, disappointed
“So, squire, it seems that the rainbow mare is one of The Enchanter's cronies...I should have seen it sooner, the ugly truth that her powers of swiftness were granted to her by The Enchanter himself, no doubt!”
>“I already TOLD you that they were friends, Anon. Did you just not pay any attention, or did you not believe me?”
“One of the two. Either way, it matters not! What matters is that we must remain hot on Rainbow Dash's trail; if she ever lets her guard down and stumbles into an empty area, then that will be an opportunity we cannot refuse!”
>From your cape pocket, you pull out a small piece of paper, on which you'd been jotting down Rainbow Dash's schedule in order to find any feasible consistency
>You examine it for a few moments, tugging on your chin hairs lightly
“Finding a constant among all of this erratic behavior is nigh-impossible. What do you make of it, squire?”
>Lyra promptly takes hold of the paper with her magic, moves it closer to herself, and begins reading through it
>Almost immediately, her eyes widen
>Your heart starts beating just that much faster
“Have you found anything constant?”
>“No, how could I? Look at this!”
>She turns the paper around for you to view wholly
>You see nothing but scribbles and strange symbols, or at least, what appear to be scribbles and strange symbols
>You beam proudly at your work
“Ah, yes, I forgot that you aren't yet skilled in the secret language of the knight. To the untrained eye, these scribbles mean nothing, but to a knight, they are as vibrant and clear as any other language. We always take our notes in this language, and you will learn it in time.”
>“Since when do knights have a 'secret language?' I don't remember reading about THAT in history class.”
>Her naivety forms a smile upon your lips
“There are many things history class does not tell you. Regardless, we must get to work! We cannot predict Rainbow Dash's goings-on around town, but we do know that, every day, she returns home. If we can simply break into town hall in the dead of night then we could access their files on the individuals of Ponyville and, effectively, find her home address!”
>Lyra gives you a brow-furrowed stare, before her eyes look at something behind you
>“Or you could just ask her?”
>Turning your helmeted head around, a gray, winged mare placing a small bundle of letters into a mailbox comes into view
“Well, I suppose asking a mail-carrier for Rainbow Dash's address is easier, if much less fun...”
>As the mail-carrying pegasus begins to saunter off to the next house, you jog after her
>Jogging and running can be a bit difficult with the weight of plated armor, but you still manage to catch up to the mare with relative ease
>Stepping in front of her, you look down to see a characteristic most unnatural upon her face
>Her eyes are horribly crooked, with one not staring in the same direction as the other at any given time
>It's morbidly grotesque, like one of the many horrible hags that lurk deep within the swamplands of Earth
>You can hardly put her at fault, though
>The Enchanter is, doubtless, responsible
>You can picture him, laughing like the cruel man he is, casting a spell upon this innocent mare to unalign her eyes, solely for his own enjoyment
>The lows that The Enchanter continues to reach never fails to astound you
>The mare looks you up and down, no doubt marveling at your astonishing suit of armor, before cocking her head
>“Can I help you with something, sir?”
“Certainly, young miss...?”
>“Derpy.”
>For just a moment, you don't say anything
>Even in a world in which you've heard such odd names as “Rainbow Dash,” and “Twilight Sparkle,” “Derpy” is pretty strange
“Yes, Miss Derpy! You see, I am on a grand quest with my squire,”
>You gesture to your squire, who stands a short distance away
>Derpy turns to look at Lyra, the latter of whom gives an awkward smile
“A grand quest to fulfill the ancient 'Prophecy of the Tasting of the Rainbow,' that is! The legend states that, many-a years ago, the Goddess of the Rainbow, with a stallion of Equestria, produced a child bearing the power of the rainbow itself, along with a mane of all colors! Henceforth, all of that rainbow pony's descendants have bore the same power, and the same mane. This power can, however, be inherited by any whom dares feast upon the flesh after cooking it for exactly forty-five minutes at precisely four hundred thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit on the second Tuesday after the first Wednesday in the month of November on every third leap year!”
>Lyra, having heard every word, pitches in
>“That isn't what happened at all, Anon!”
“Do not heed her words, Miss Derpy. She has uttered more lies than even the most dedicated compulsive liar.”
>Derpy simply gives you an unsure gaze
>Or maybe that's her usual facial expression
>It's hard to tell, what with her Enchanter-inflicted deformation
>“Are...are you going to eat Rainbow Dash?”
“Yes. I want to eat Rainbow Dash. That is why I came to you, good miss, so that I may learn of her address.”
>“I don't know...I might get in trouble for giving you her address, if you kill her.”
“It's not going to be considered a murder if no one finds the body.”
>She stops to mull over your words, then promptly shrugs
>Out of her mailbag, she pulls a letter addressed to the elusive rainbow mare and passes it on to you
>Reading over the address given, you notice something strange
>It isn't addressed to anywhere that you're familiar with
>Rather, it's addressed to some mystical castle known simply as “Cloud House”
“Where may I find this 'Cloud House,' Derpy? I'm quite unfamiliar with it.”
>She points a hoof off into the sky
>You look to where she's pointing, and find a great building of clouds, looming in the distance
>So THAT'S where the pegasi of Ponyville live
>You've always assumed that they live in horrible concentration camps, enslaved by The Enchanter and only allowed to leave to do work around town
>Apparently, The Enchanter's plan hasn't quite reached that point yet
“Ah. Well, how am I supposed to get there? I could fly on Rocinante's back, but she is likely too frail to carry me through the skies. Perhaps I could-”
>Suddenly, a plan surges into your mind as Derpy swats away a fly with one of her wings
“Miss Derpy, your route takes you to the Cloud House, does it not?”
>She responds with a light nod
>“Yeah, why?”
>-------------------
>A bit of convincing later, you find yourself mounted firmly upon Derpy's back
>Lyra is standing beside Derpy staring up at you with one of her brows raised skeptically
>“So, I'm just to wait here until you come back from murdering another pony in cold blood?”
“You listen to orders well, my squire. I regret that I won't be able to educate you in the art of relieving one's opponent of life, but there will always be another time. At the very least, I shall save you a pound of the rainbow mare's meat.”
>“Joy. I can't wait to officially become a cannibal.”
“I do hope that isn't sarcasm I hear, squire. 'Sarcasm' is just a term liars use to make themselves feel better about the fact that they are horribly untrustworthy.  No squire shall become a liar under MY watch.”
>As your squire gives a groan and a nod, you turn your attention to Derpy
“Now, let us make haste, Derpy! The Prophecy of the Tasting of the Rainbow will be fulfilled on this day!”
>Derpy, beating her wings with more force than usual to lift your added weight, takes to the afternoon skies, with a gentle breeze flowing through the air
>Once you're a good distance from the ground, you look back to wave at Lyra, who returns the gesture half-heartedly
>Having bade your squire farewell, you set your sight on the distant Cloud House, leaning forward on Derpy's back
>Promptly, you point a gloved finger, and she begins moving onward, bringing you ever-closer to the completion of your grand quest

>You are Anon Quixote.
>Nothing but the smudged armor on your back and the sword at your side to your name, you've been wandering through what you believe to be the Everfree Forest for two months now.
>Though you'd always bragged about knowing your way through the forest like you know your own gauntlets, that was absolute hogwash.
>You couldn't tell anyone what your gauntlets looked like without having to glance at them.
>In reality, it was pure luck that led you out of the forest in your old patrols.
>So, when an unexpected severe storm—Which, no doubt, was the work of the villainous Enchanter—was whipped up whilst you rode upon the back of Derpy the mailmare through the skies of Ponyville on a quest to smite the Rainbow Mare of legend, the high winds hurling you deep into the forest, you became hopelessly lost.
>Though you had managed to survive the fall one way or another, luck, unfortunately, had not been feeling so gracious these last two months.
>Much like the labors of the great Anoncelot of old, you've been faced with many-a trials and tribulations during your time within the seemingly endless woodland.
>You've had to fight back beasts with your blade, forage for berries in the underbrush, scavenge what meat you could from the prey of predatorial beasts, all while fighting to keep your armor and sword in tip-top shape.
>It didn't help that your food was constantly being thieved by rodents of a size most unusual, creatures that often wound up severely damaging your whole camp.
>On the bright side, said rodents didn't taste so bad, whenever you did manage to put your sword to work against them.
>Really, you found that they tasted rather like chicken.
>Which was strange, because you'd never eaten chicken.
>So, with food not being nearly as plentiful as you'd like it to be, you find yourself perfectly content as you bite a morsel of rat meat while trudging along through the thick of the forest.
>It is a bit on the burnt side, but burning your food has been quite unavoidable for the past two months.
>Before you got stuck here, you were surviving off of a stockpile of apples that you'd bought en masse, and before that you'd merely dined at whatever restaurant you spotted first in Ponyville, so it wasn't as if you'd ever had to cook your own food until now.
>Your body becomes completely stiff as an all-too familiar voice fills your helmet and dances upon your ears.
>The voice was distant and would have been naught but a whisper to the ears of anyone other than a well-honed knight.
>But, to your ears, the voice was as recognizable as that of a family member, and was met with all the loathing of a Hydra stirred from his thousand-year slumber.
>Who else could that venomous voice belong to but the nefarious Enchanter, whom you had waged unending war upon for years?
>Instinctively, your head turns to the source of the voice and, amidst all of the towering trees and sprawling, tentacle-like vines, you spot the Enchanter, under the guise of an apparently innocent mare by the name of “Twilight Sparkle,” trotting his way through the murk.
>He isn't alone.
>Just a short distance behind is none other than your own steed, Rocinante.
>You'd known from Rocinante herself that she was close to the Enchanter, but that she would so boldly cast away her allegiance to you and join the legions of The Enchanter was entirely beyond you.
>Your glove-wrapped fist clenches as you listen closely to the conversation held between the two.
>The Enchanter turns his lavender head back to Rocinante as he saunters along.
>“Fluttershy, are you sure that that Anon guy is out here? He's been missing for months, don't you think he'd be able to find his way out by now?”
>Rocinante lightly shakes her head.
>“You don't know Anon. I don't want to be too harsh, because he is friendly enough, but I don't know if he's...”
>She takes a moment to ponder, turning her gaze to the ground, before finally finding the right words.
>“I'm not sure he has the proper skills to make his way out of the forest on his own.”
>A cloud shrouds Rocinante's brow as she sighs heavily, her eyes seeming to find the dirt to be the most interesting stuff the world has to offer.
>“I just hope he's doing alright, Twilight.”
>You cock your brow.
>Could your steed, in spite of her aligning with The Enchanter, still have some loyalty to you?
>Or is The Enchanter merely manipulating her kindness, in order to locate you and smite you once and for all?
>With you in such a weak position; lost, hungry, and carrying nothing but a now-dulled sword, you would hardly be any match for his magical potency.
>And no one but Rocinante and your squire would ever know or suspect anything about your death.
>No one left to oppose his dictatorial might.
>The helmet on your head suddenly feels so much more heavy as you consider The Enchanter going uncontested as he wreaks terror across all of the land.
>The Enchanter or, shall you say, 'Twilight,' places a comforting hoof on Rocinante's shoulder, offering a small smile.
>“I'm sure he'll be okay, Fluttershy. You said he had a sword and some armor, right? He should be able to defend himself just fine, so long as he knows how to use that sword.”
>“That's just it, Twilight, I'm not sure he does. The only time he's ever used it was that time he stabbed a windmill.”
>A look of perplexity takes shape on The Enchanter's snout, his brow furrowing.
>Becoming inquisitive, he cocks his head lightly to the side.
>“Why would he want to stab a windmill?”
>“I'm pretty sure he thought it was a dragon, or a giant, or something.”
>Rocinante shrugs.
>“It was a weird day, Twilight.”
>Still utterly dumbfounded, The Enchanter isn't done asking questions.
>No doubt with the goal in mind of finding out your recent heroic activities.
>“Has he exhibited any...other strange mannerisms?”
>“Well, he does insist that I stay silent at all times. Because, apparently, I'm a 'steed.' I don't know what that is, but I don't know if I like being one. He always rides on me, and, with all that armor he's always wearing, it really hurts my back.”
>“Needless to say, I think we might need to get him a therapist. But-”
>The Enchanter interrupted himself as his villainous gaze turned skyward, looking to the sky through the gap in the forest's canopy.
>“But for now, we should probably get going. It's almost sundown, and we can keep searching tomorrow. We probably shouldn't be alone in the forest with a delusional, sword-swinging maniac.”
>Having said this, the two of them started back on their path through the forest, beginning to fade from your sight.
>Just before they completely leave your vision, you can make out the words of Rocinante, albeit only barely.
>“I wouldn't call him a 'maniac,' just a bit...confused.”
>Your mouth curls into a disgusted sneer.
>That The Enchanter would dare suggest you visit a “therapist!”
>No, it is all but obvious that he intends not to make your mind well—As if it weren't already well-tuned—but that he desires to strike you down behind closed doors.
>Either that, or work his sinister brainwashing magic on you, thus making you little more than a slave to his will.
>The only one that would dare stand against The Enchanter would be gone, in one fell swoop, and the land would inevitably fall into chaos.
>And all because a purple mare named “Twilight Sparkle,” would deem you in need of a therapist.
>Fortunately, there is not a therapist in all of the land that could ever hope to damage the mind or body of Anon Quixote, Man of Equestria!
>Suddenly, you are pulled from your ponderings as a smell most repulsive seems to fill your nose to its very brim.
>Like a thousand dead creatures of all shapes and sizes, the slightest touch of the scent upon your nose causes every inch of your face to grimace dreadfully.
>Whirling around to face the smell's source, whatever it may be, your very heart sinks to the depths of your torso.
>Before you is a gigantic Wyrm, gnashing its fangs and drooling its likely toxic, or even acidic, saliva onto the grass below.
>Most of the fiend's length is hidden by the forest around it, but it must be at least forty-two feet in length.
>Were you in a better shape—Or far less wise—you would have been inclined to draw your sword and face the demon-spawn head-on.
>But, savoring the air that flows through your lungs, you turn to run as the creature rears up its ugly head and bears its terrible teeth.
>The run proves most difficult, as you leap over collapsed trees, nearly trip over various meaty roots, and shove aside the vines and bushes obscuring your way.
>All the while, you daren't turn to look at your pursuer, as you can hear its hulking mass slithering along effortlessly, its forked tongue hissing sharply.
>You're dashing as fast as your armored legs are able to carry you, but the Wyrm's screeches, and its horrible jaws, grow closer to you with every passing moment.
>Just as hope seems to wane, you glimpse a sight that you didn't think you'd lay eyes on any sooner than you'd dine with your ancestor Anoncelot.
>A distance ahead of you is gleaming sunlight, shining in through the edge of the forest.
>You grin from ear to ear, as your saving grace appears before your eyes.
>So overwhelmed with joy, you come very close to slamming face-first into a tree limb hanging from above, but come to your senses and duck just in time.
>As you begin to near the edge of the woods, it comes to your attention that the trees are exceptionally tightly-packed here.
>On top of that, a slew of branches and and brush are overtaking the space that would lead you out into the plains just outside of Ponyville.
>Turning yourself sideways hastily, you push past all that blocks your path, squeezing your way through.
>Just as you step out into the light of day and out of the woods, and tree branch catches your helmet and thieves it from your head, but you pay it no mind and continue running across the green, grassy fields.
>Eventually, you turn back towards the Everfree Forest, where you make out the shape of the Wyrm, struggling to force its way past the tree line.
>Its roars of disappointment at having lost its prey soar through the air, and bring a smile to your face.
>The Wyrm, groaning lowly, disappears from view as it ultimately gives up, slithering back into the Everfree Forest's dark depths.
>Overjoyed, you throw your arms into the air, laughing triumphantly.
“No mere worm can slay me, Enchanter! It will take a monster far greater to put down Anon Quixote, Man of Equestria!”
>For some time, you simply stand firmly rooted in your spot, gloating.
>Not only have you escaped the literal jaws of death, you have returned to Ponyville, which sits just on the horizon, the last rays of day lighting it up.
>You have returned home, to bring justice to the land.
>To devour the rainbow mare.
>To pass down the ways of chivalry to your squire.
>To put an end to The Enchanter's misdeeds, once and for all.

>You are Anon Quixote.
>As the moon casts down its melancholy light onto the land, you amble along the grassy outskirts of Ponyville, your path only barely visible through the night's shroud.
>Treading rather sluggishly, Ponyville itself is still distant, appearing as a mere silhouette on the horizon.
>Having narrowly avoided making yourself the supper of a vicious Wyrm, rescuing yourself from the depths of the Everfree Forest in the process, not an hour ago, you think your slow, leisurely pace well-deserved.
>You would much prefer having your noble steed, Rocinante to carry you, as she had always done in the months before you became lost, but you've gone through worse walks.
>Years ago, when you were merely a squire,  you had to traverse the wretched Mount Muerte, where a horrible Wyvern named “Periwinkle”was said to lurk.
>For nearly a year, you clambered over boulders, scaled treacherous rocky faces, and spelunked the mountain's deepest caverns, before finally reaching the mountain's very top.
>There, you'd found Periwinkle's rotting corpse.
>As it turned out, he'd perished from serious internal wounds.
>Apparently, the gems he ate really wreaked havoc on his digestive tract.
>Reminiscing about this old adventure of yours, you find yourself feeling much the same as you imagine the terrifying Periwinkle must have felt in the days before his death.
>Which is to say, hungry and in desperate need of something actually edible.
>Though the food you'd found during your two-month stay within the Everfree Forest managed to keep you alive and well, it was less than desirable.
>On several occasions, you'd eaten a rotten berry without realizing it.
>Needless to say, your stomach hasn't quite been the same since those incidents.
>As your stomach growls violently, it promptly seizes your attention.
>Gently, your hand strokes your belly, as if it were a moaning child to be calmed with soft-spoken words of sweetness.
>Even those foul berries would suffice at such a time like this.
>Indeed, just about anything would be satisfactory, or at least until you manage to find something more delectable to eat.
>Fortunately, your quest of hunger does not go on much longer, as the abrupt sound of a door slamming shut reports across the fields.
>Instinctively turning your head to the sound's origin, you lay eyes upon a quaint household, none too far in the distance.
>Judging by the crimson barn and various pens for livestock positioned nearby the house, you've happened upon a farm.
>You've glanced at it in the past, but have never given it any heed, deeming it nothing short of a mere peasant's abode.
>Though you don't have anything against the peasantry, per se, there had never been anything they could possibly offer you, a valiant, esteemed knight.
>Up until now, that is.
>You distinctly recall a farm being situated not far from the brothel that you called home, before becoming a squire.
>Since then, you've come to learn that where there's a farm, there's food to go around.
>With you being in your current state, you would accept just about anything worth eating.
>And, it just so happens that farmers specialize in putting together food very much worth eating.
>With a newfound swing in your step, you make way towards the farmhouse in the distance, traipsing along.
>As your body's bowels endlessly berate you with their foul groans every step of the way, the walk could not possibly be slower.
>---------------
>A walk of substantial length later, you find yourself situated at the doorstep of the farm house, no doubt proving quite a strange sight.
>A raggedy, yet completely and utterly valorous knight, garbed in his full suit of armor and carrying a sword at his sight seeking shelter from a mere peasant's home.
>You'd always read of adventurers finding aid in farms, but those were usually more daring, and involved hiding out undetected in a barn.
>Figuratively getting down on your knees and begging for help has never been something you pictured yourself doing.
>But, everyone needs a little humility every now and then.
>Except for Anoncelot, your ancestor.
>The only help he ever needed was the help of his magical blade in smiting the villainous Knight of the Full Moon.
>Still, you aren't Anoncelot.
>Swallowing your pride as deep as you can muster, you clench one of your fists, and pound upon the door before you.
>The sound of your glove-wrapped fist pounding against the wooden door of the farm house rings out.
>As if in answer, the faint noise of cluttering comes from within the house, and is followed by the unmistakable noise of hooves pounding against the floorboards.
>In worry, your brow furrows as the noise approaches the other side of the door.
>Based on your experience, the sound of objects falling to the floor tended to indicate a brute, constantly knocking things over and just compulsively breaking things.
>Or a person that's both terribly clumsy and distinctly nervous.
>Whichever one proves to be the case this time, you aren't sure you'd be happy with either.
>You don't have the energy to face off against an aggressive brute, nor do you have the patience to deal with a worry-wart.
>Fortunately, as the door swings open, your worries are dispelled.
>Greeting you is the skeptical face of a small, yellow filly, with a particularly large bow tied in her mane.
>Before you can say a word, she speaks up, in a fine southern drawl that you're all-too familiar with from your time living village life on Earth.
>“Are you some sort of foreign salespony? I'm not s'posed to talk to salesponies.”
>A small frown forms on your beard-cloaked lips.
“No, I am no salespony. What I am is a-”
>“Are you from the bank? Big sis told me to kick out whoever's from the bank.”
“I'm not from the bank, either. In truth, I am a-”
>“A mailcarrier?”
“What? No, why would a mailcarrier deliver after twilight?”
>The filly shrugs, momentarily cocking her head to the side.
>“I don't know, sometimes mailponies are weird. There was this one time one of 'em crashed into our barn. We had 'em pay out of their own wallet to get it rebuilt.”
>She seems to take delight in telling you that last part.
“That sounds nice, young maiden. Now-”
>“Applebloom.”
>Your brow knits tightly.
>It is your duty to treat all people—And, more recently, all ponies as well—with the utmost respect, but being interrupted is something you've never been fond of, let alone being interrupted consistently.
“What's an Applebloom?”
>That's my name, and it's what I want you to call me. “
“As you wish, young mai-”
>You catch yourself, and grimace slightly.
>Damn, now YOU'RE interrupting yourself.
>Clearing your throat, you start again.
“Certainly, young Applebloom. Now, where is your big sister that you mentioned? I'm inferring that she is in charge, is she not?”
>As if the God of Chivalry himself had heard your words, you spot an orange mare walk into your line of sight a distance behind Applebloom inside the house.
>Her emerald eyes widen significantly as they meet your own and, for a moment, she merely stares at you.
>Finally, she rushes over to the door, lightly nudging the young Applebloom to her side, the latter of whom frowns in response.
>Greeting you, she gives an embarrassed grin.
>“Hello there, stranger! I'm sorry if Applebloom gave you any trouble, with all I tell her about salesponies an' such. We just aren't too fond of their sort 'round here. Anyways, what brings such a...”
>Her voice trails off as she looks you up and down, raising a brow before continuing.
>“Ah, such an armored fellow as yourself to our little abode?”
“I, my lady, am the ever-intrepid knight, Anon Quixote, Man of Equestria!”
>Tucking one of your arms behind your back, you give a bow of respect.
>Both the orange mare and Applebloom gaze at you dubiously as you raise yourself out of your respectful bow.
>“Uh-Huh. And my name's Applejack. Nice to meet ya. So, what's an 'ever-intrepid knight' doing here?”
>Acknowledging her introduction of herself, you give a deferential nodding of the head.
“Well, I was simply looking for a place to stay for the night, as I've no place in Ponyville to call home.”
>As the unmistakable waft of a freshly-baked pie from inside the farmponies' home catches your nose, you decide to add onto your words.
“And, perhaps, but a bite to eat? If it is not too much to ask, that is.”
>Applejack spends a moment and no longer considering your request, before nodding with a friendly smile on her snout.
>“What sort of ponies would we be to turn down a weary traveler? You're welcome to stay the night at Sweet Apple Acres.”
>Having said this, she turned to her younger sister, who still stood at her side, listening to the two of you speak.
>“Go fetch Anon a plate of pie and take it to the guest room, we can't well let him starve, can we?”
>No sooner than the words leave Applejack's snout, Applebloom trotted off down the halls, leaving you alone with Applejack in the doorway.
>“We've got a cozy little guest room you can stay in overnight. Come on, I'll show you to it.”
>After stepping into Applejack's home and shutting the door behind you promptly, the first thing you notice is that the whole building can, indeed, be described as “cozy and little.”
>The ceiling is mere inches away from your head, due to the height difference between yourself and the ponies of Equestria, the hallways are rather tight, and, scattered here and there on the walls and on furniture, are photographs, be they of family photos, solo pictures, or just little moments from years gone by.
>Everything is rather quaint, really, and your once-lustrous armor clashes heavily with all of it.
>As Applejack leads you through her home, she abruptly turns her head back to you, bearing a look of curiosity.
>“You said your name was 'Anon Kee-Huh-Tee,' right?”
>Her butchering of your revered title makes you grimace, but you do all in your power to brush it aside.
“You heard me correctly. Although, it is pronounced, 'Kee-Hoh-Tay,' if you please.”
>“I don't want to offend, but that's kind of an odd name, 'Quixote.'”
“Not necessarily. I was granted the name upon my ascension to knighthood, as a new name, a new face, to wear with pride.”
>“Sounds interesting. Does 'Quixote,' mean anything?”
“No, not really. It's the job of the one who knights you to speak gibberish until they reach something that vaguely resembling a name. Then we just go with that.”
>She merely stares at you for a moment, as if waiting to see if you were jesting.
>Knights do not jest about such important matters.
>“That sounds like a lot of hooey, but whatever you say.”
“Many great things appear as merely nonsense to those who are not truly chivalrous.”
>Applejack appears as though she is about to respond, but, as she spots the door she had been looking for, she drops it and trots over to the doorway hastily.
>Carefully opening the door, she reveals a small room, consisting of little more than a bed, a table, and some space for walking around.
>“I know it's not much, but I hope it'll work for you. 'S better than sleeping outside with the pigs, at least.”
>She directs a hopeful smile in your direction, and you return the favor.
“Right you are. Do you know, in my time as a knight and as a squire, I have quite rarely had the fortune of staying in a house at all? No, for all too long the very wilderness has been my home. This mere room shall prove more than sufficient.”
>An impressed whistle emerges from her snout.
>“That must really do a number on you, staying out in the woods all the time. You get sick or wounded very often? Who tends to you when you're out there, questing, and you break a leg or something?”
“In those instances, a knight is expected to lie down and await either his wounds to heal, or to die, effectively becoming one with nature itself.”
>“Wouldn't that be sort of backwards? I mean, you don't want your knights just disappearing out in the wild all the time, right?”
“Don't be silly, they turn out just fine, more often than not. No mere wound to the flesh or illness in the blood is going to put down a knight's spirit! We are all too in-tune with pure, unfiltered chivalry to die so easily.”
>She nods in response, but doesn't seem to really understand, nor did you expect her to.
>Only knights who have undergone years of harsh training can understand such great feats that the average knight can accomplish.
>“Anyways, I guess I'll leave you to get settled right in. Applebloom should be along with your pie soon, so don't worry about starving for too much longer.”
>Just as she sets off back down the halls, something sitting inside the guest room catches your eye.
>Moonlight is shining in through the window, and reflects off of what most people would confuse for a bucket on the floor.
>Luckily, your senses are well-tuned, so you recognize that it is anything but a bucket.
>But, one can never be too sure, so, hurriedly, you call after Applejack, pointing at the “bucket.”
“May I ask, what might this object be?”
>Turning around to face you fully, she glances at the “bucket” for a moment.
>“Oh, that? It's just a bucket we let our guests put their trash in. Y'all can keep it, if you want. We've got plenty of buckets sitting around that we use for carrying apples.”
>Without turning your gaze back to Applejack, you stare intently at the “bucket.”
“Thank you. This is just what I needed.”
>Shrugging lightly, she trots off elsewhere, leaving you with what you know to be not a bucket, or a trash can, but a helmet.
>A grand, wonderful helmet surpassing all others.
>Should you have ventured into the finest armor shop in the finest of towns back on Earth, you would not have found a greater helm.
>In fact, you have half a mind to claim this helmet more extraordinary than the legendary Golden Helmet of Mambrino, but that would be heresy.
>Taking up the helmet in your hands, you spend several minutes simply marveling at its glory.
>It could not be anything other than fate that you, Anon Quixote, have discovered this illustrious helm.
>And, as you situate it carefully atop your head, replacing the void left by the loss of your last helmet, you feel like an entirely new man.
>You feel reborn, greater and more chivalrous than ever before.
>With such a helmet, no beast of any kind could ever harm a hair on your head.
>Not even The Enchanter himself.